Between A Rock And A Hard Place
by XLadySnowX
Summary: "Your women have beards? No wonder you look so grumpy." Thorin Oakenshield meets Lady Aeducan; a series of drabbles with a romantic pairing. Post-DAO, possible spoilers for 'The Hobbit' in future.
1. The One With The Meeting

As he looked her over, he didn't seem very impressed with whatever he saw.

She scowled fiercely under his scrutiny.

"She doesn't look like much," Thorin said bluntly, still eyeing her with an expression full of doubt and even mild disdain. He turned to Gandalf, his arms folded across his chest. "Was she _really_ all you could find across the sea? She doesn't have a beard; she might not even be old enough to come with us. Where are your parents, girl? Are they not missing you?"

He was being consciously snide, but all Lady Aeducan did was wrinkle her nose in disgust, unable to hear past the beard comment. "Wait a second, your _women_ have beards? No wonder you look so grumpy. I'd always wondered whether the stories were true about our kin in Middle-Earth. Do you happen to hatch from stones as well?"

Fili and Kili sniggered behind their uncle, but were swiftly silenced by an icy stare from him. "I hope your blade is as sharp as your tongue. Don't expect any special protection in battle just because you're a woman."

"Funny," Lady Aeducan shot back, "I was about to tell you the exact same thing."

The royal dwarves glared at each other for a few seconds, before deliberately going off in separate directions in an attempt to put distance between the two of them, despite the size of the hobbit hole they were in.

Gandalf pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed tiredly.

This was going to be a long journey.


	2. The One With The Implications

The mud squished beneath her horse's shoes and the cold wind whipped hard against her face, but it was such a familiar atmosphere she was unbothered by it; in fact, not having to walk entirely on foot to your destination felt somewhat like a holiday to her.

Lady Sereda Aeducan trotted amongst the dwarves of Thorin's company, and with her fur cloak's hood pulled over her face, you could hardly tell the difference between her and the rest of them.

Unbeknownst to her, Balin had been making his way up to her, and she didn't notice his presence until he spoke, "you seem as though you've seen quite a bit of adventure in your time, if you don't mind me saying so, my lady. No grousing at all. _Very_ unusual, my pardons of course."

Sereda smiled warmly at his observation and use of her formal title. "I am no lady, my friend. Not any longer."

"That sounds like a story waiting to be told."

"Perhaps I'll tell it to you one day."

"Although," Balin continued, "if I recall correctly, I remember Gandalf mentioning you were not just a noble, but a princess in fact?"

_I was, once, _was what she wanted to say, but instead she found herself curious by him mentioning it and asked instead, "what of it?"

"Well," she wasn't sure she liked that look in his eyes as the words came out of his mouth, filled to the brim with implications, "our esteemed king, Thorin, would potentially need a queen should we succeed in reclaiming Erebor."

_Ah. _It was a game dwarves played everywhere, it would seem.

"I see," Sereda said stiffly, trying hard to maintain her friendly demeanor. Unbidden, her eyes found Thorin at the head of the company, looking forwards, completely unaware that this conversation was taking place, "in that case, I wish him all the luck in the world with finding one, dear Balin."


	3. The One With The Elves

"You're not fond of your elven people."

It was a statement, not a question. Thorin looked over at the young dwarven woman who had ridden up beside him, bearing the weight of arduous travel well. He believed her now, that she had seen much hardship in her life and that she was no spoiled child as he'd originally believed… not that he'd ever tell her so.

"No," he replied in a dark voice, "I'm not."

"Because of what happened at Erebor," Sereda nodded. "I know. Gandalf told me of what happened to your people," he looked at her and was momentarily stunned by the genuine regret in her grey eyes, "I'm very sorry."

He nodded solemnly, "I hear your people are not doing very well themselves."

"No, we're not."

"For what it's worth…" _which probably isn't much, _"you have my sympathies."

"Thank you, Thorin," she returned gratefully. "I _am _curious though, about your elves."

"I can't possibly imagine why," he said dryly.

"Well… what are they like?" she pressed lightly, not wanting to annoy him now that they'd finally found some common ground. Sereda hated to be at odds with her travelling companions – namely the people who would be watching over her back in battle – which was why she liked to establish a sense of camaraderie. She'd befriended Morrigan and Sten, despite not fully understanding them initially. The words _"kadan" _and "_sister"_ came to mind, and it made her smile a little. It had been worth every second breaking through their rough exteriors in the end.

Though something… different drew her to Thorin than it did with Morrigan and Sten. She just wasn't sure what yet, which was partly the reason she was trying to converse with him now, despite their rocky introduction.

"Ethereal," he said bitterly, sounding like he would rather be talking about anything else in the world, "_graceful. _But arrogant, cruel, and narcissistic; they sit in their domains of luxury and comfort and care nothing for the suffering of anyone who isn't an elf."

He looked over and saw she was looking at him with a peculiar expression in her eyes. Thorin cleared his throat, "and what of yours? Do they bear similar description?"

To his surprise, Sereda laughed. "Oh, sorry, I'm not laughing at you. A friend of mine once described our elves as a 'lithe, pointy-eared people who excel at poverty,' so, funnily enough… our elves are quite the opposite. Well, except they are beautiful and graceful, I suppose. Our humans certainly find them desirable enough."

Thorin made a disgusted noise under his breath. "Some of our humans share similar delusions."

Sereda chuckled again, her eyes shining brightly with humour, "at least we dwarves still have some sense, right?"

He almost smiled. Almost. "Indeed."


	4. The One With The Admiration

Sereda Aeducan had heard the tale of the fall of Erebor; Gandalf had not wanted her to travel with her Middle-Earth kin being ignorant of the suffering they'd endured. She'd heard it in excruciating detail, and a part of her did wonder how Gandalf knew so much about it without ever having been there himself, but she was so enraptured by heart ache and sympathy that she didn't question it.

She absorbed every detail to a point where she felt as though she was there – she could feel the heat of Smaug's fire, feeling agony as walls crumbled and lives were lost. Looking back on it now, it was clear that she'd been projecting – the dwarves of Middle-Earth losing the glory that was Erebor made losing Orzammar to the darkspawn seem almost inevitable. It had frustrated her to know that nothing she'd done as a Grey Warden would prevent her beloved city from falling some day.

But if she could help Thorin Oakenshield and the others take back their home, perhaps there would be hope for future surface dwarves – or even other Grey Wardens – in Ferelden to reclaim Orzammar should it ever fall into the hands of the darkspawn.

The exiled princess fought for her dwarven companions, of course, but she also fought for hope for her own home as well.

Despite the vividness of Gandalf's story of Erebor, it was an entirely different experience to hear of the recollection from Balin of the Mines of Moria being reclaimed. Thorin watching his grandfather's army falling in battle with the orcs (who were eerily similar to darkspawn, from what she could tell) only to have Thror be slain by a pale orc by the name of Azog the Defiler. With his grandfather dead and his father missing, the army was scattered, leaderless… until Thorin, wielding an oaken branch as a shield, cut the sword arm off of Azog, and turned the tide of battle, emerging victorious despite the heavy losses.

After that, she couldn't help but look at Thorin with the utmost respect… and maybe a little longing.

Just a little.


End file.
